Saturday, July 30, 2011

I said to Ethan, "See the man in red? He's the burgemeester. The man next to him in the black cape with yellow trim is the town crier. Do you know what the burgemeester does?” He said yes, which he often does even when he doesn’t know. So when I asked him what the burgemeester does, I expected a shrug and an “I don’t know”, at which point I could tell him that he decides whether the streets are clean enough for the Holland Festival parade.

Instead, I got a confident, “He makes burgers.”

Sunday, July 17, 2011

The first three family members to rise this Sunday morning were Eliana (about 4:00), I (a minute later), and Ethan (about 6:30). Ethan wanted a peanut butter and honey sandwich for a pre-breakfast snack. It wasn’t the typical breakfast snack, but I didn’t see any reason why not. It occurred to me that Ethan was probably ready to make the sandwich himself. And other than a little help squeezing the honey, he did.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Ethan appreciates order in his play. He often arranges all his toy vehicles side by side in a straight line; other times, they follow the rounded perimeter of the rug in front of his dresser. This doesn’t apply to everything, however; TinkerToys and Legos, for instance, like to scatter to the four winds.

As I was helping Ethan get ready for bed, I observed the needed tidy that separated clean bedroom reality from desire. I proposed to Beth that in the future we plan some room cleanup time before bedtime. As always seems to be the case, Ethan was listening. I guess he liked the idea. He picked up his TinkerToys and miscellaneous clutter, leaving his room neat and tidy.

He arranged his vehicles on the floor a bit, but didn’t put them in toy bins. In his mind there was a place for each, and each was in its place.

Beth and Eliana have summer colds, so they skipped our friend Stacia’s graduation party this afternoon, leaving just Ethan and me to congratulate the young lady. As we were parting, Stacia’s mother asked Ethan to give his mommy a hug for her. When we arrived home, Ethan remembered: he wrapped his arms around Beth’s legs saying, “Aunty Ann says give you a hug.”

Sometimes when Ethan asks why, there is no functional answer. He understands and accepts the answer that something is just decorative. Today, he even co-opted the concept to describe food with no nutritional value: “Popsicles do not make you strong; they’re just a decoration.”